Of Catty Girls and Pretty Boys
by BottleBlondeBitch
Summary: Tristan fell under the Countess's spell once but soon he realizes that power and control aren't enough to keep an everlasting passion alive. [Tristan Duffy/Jimmy Darling bc I'm GROSS with a bunch of other stuff]
1. Lucky

Tristan knew he owed his life to sheer, dumb luck. He lucked out of his awful family at a relatively early age. Luck managed to get him out of the atrocity that was the American fostering system. Hell, he even got lucky to get off the streets and land one of the most glamorous professions just a few lucky ones manage to even dare dream of.

"You do know luck has nothing to do with it, right?" Dr. Harmon added. While harsh, condescending and way far up his own ass in a way only he could pull off, Ben Harmon was also really good at keeping Tristan's psyche in-line. "You're resourceful Tristan, you've manage to make the most out of awful situations and somehow you've still managed to strive."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that but then again you're the one with the degree so…" The model insisted, while any other shrink would have said something along the lines of 'don't give me too much credit' or some crap like that Dr. Harmon just sat there probably resisting the urge to nod. "Anyways how's the family?"

"You know I'd rather keep you as the focus of our sessions." He sighs. "But they're fine, thanks for asking. I still owe you for that signed poster, Violet went head over heels for it."

The comment made Tristan smirk, young girls flipped their shit over the silliest things. "Hey, you helped me keep the probation officers off my back, consider it a 'thank you' gift."

"Speaking off, how's the drug situation? Have you managed yourself like we talked about?" Dr. Harmon asked. The sole reason the two started seeing each other was pretty cliché, at least by celebrity standards. After a run-in with the law resulting in an almost arrest, Tristan had been ordered to attend a rehab facility. Believing to have found himself a stable weekly pay check in the form of the model, Dr. Harmon took the case. Yet, thanks to his uncanny luck, drugs were no longer his main source of addiction.

"Not to alarm you but I've found a substitute." Dr. Harmon raised an eyebrow in doubt, Tristan simply chuckled. "Relax man, no substances. I just met someone who opened my eyes to a whole new world of possibilities. Drugs are dull and boring in comparison."

"And what would that be?" The psychiatrist asked, still suspicious over the model's sudden reassurance. It wasn't that Tristan was self-destructive, at least not consciously, yet he always found a way into danger that Dr. Harmon had never witnessed with other patients in all his years as a professional. He was impulsive and such impulse often came with a cost.

"Passion." Tristan replied swiftly. "You're a married Ben, you know what I'm talking about."

"Please refrain from calling me anything other than Dr. Harmon during our sessions, Tristan." The psychiatrist added. "As for your apparent excitement, I'm assuming the source of said passion is a person?"

"What gave me off?" The model asked sarcastically.

Ben just stared back at Tristan with an icy cold look. "Just a whim. Still, I doubt you came all the way here just to brag about your sex life. What's going on Tristan?"

"Nah you're looking way too much into it." Tristan shrugged. "It's nothing important, really."

"I'd believe you had you not brought it up." Dr. Harmon replied. "Is this about that woman you mentioned to me on our previous sessions?"

"This has nothing to do with the Countess!" Tristan yelped defensively. "… for the most part."

"And why would that be?" Dr. Harmon asked. Tristan hated how he used basic questions to get information out of him, yet he couldn't help himself from answering them.

"I have a…" He paused. Tristan hated himself, he really did. He knew women would kill to be with a man with him while men themselves would do the same just to look a slight bit like him yet the modelling world had taught him that appearances were only that and nothing more. The jumbled mess that occurred inside him was more appalling than even the most unattractive sight. "I have a problem."

"Go on." Dr. Harmon instructed as he got his notepad ready.

"Remember how I told you sex with her was one of the most arousing experiences I'd gone through in like… ever?" The model asked.

"Not in such light words exactly but yes, I do." Ben Harmon replied while at the same time scribbling something on his notepad.

"Well the flame's dead." He replied bluntly. "Don't get me wrong, she's still a good fuck but the passion died so quickly I couldn't even truly enjoy it."

Ben looked at Tristan blankly. "Tristan you do know I'm not that type of doctor, right? If you have an erectile dysfunction problem I'd suggest you going to someone else. I'd recommend you got to Dr. Lowe at the general hospital, she mostly works with children but I'm pretty sure she'd know a thing or two about-"

"My dick's working just fine." Tristan quickly interrupted. "The problem is that the passion isn't there anymore and that worries me."

"Why exactly?" Dr. Harmon asked. "I mean, if you two aren't happy with your relationship I'd say the two of you are free to go and find another partner that fulfils your sexual desires. Love's not always simple." He said before giving out a rare smirk. "Just don't tell my wife I said that."

Tristan rolled his eyes. What a tool, he thought. While he had his moments at least he was sure he wasn't a full-time douche like Dr. Harmon. "The passion is there, just… not with her."

"So you found someone else, why not just cut ties with this 'Countess' whom you've obviously grown apart from?" Dr. Harmon suggested.

"That's easier said than done, actually. I've heard she's quite ruthless." Tristan said sheepishly. "Still that's not the main issue…"

Ben raised an eyebrow yet again, now in annoyance. "Tristan I've got another patient right after you and our time's almost up so I'd suggest you to speed things up if you want answers."

Tristan took a deep breath. He'd never truly admitted to stuff like this unless it got him something in return. His swift rise on the laboral ladder as Will Drake's top model came to be solely based on this but admitting to it was harder than he'd imagine.

"You see, the Countess has this whole… ritual-type shit she calls 'hunting' nights where we both pick someone we both like, sometimes even more than one, and ask them to join us. I guess it's a way to keep things interesting behind closed doors." He said. "Anyways, we went through a dry spell on our last one and even those hook-up apps had little to offer so I did the only thing I could think off…"

Dr. Harmon's annoyed expression prevailed. "…which was?"

"I… hired someone. You know, one of those escorts you phone in for an hour and such…" Tristan replied reluctantly.

Ben Harmon's face remained stern. "No, actually I wouldn't know but let me take a guess of what happened next. You fell for her?"

Dr. Harmon noticed Tristan's instant blush, which was exactly why the answered that followed caught him off-guard. "Not exactly."

The psychiatrist dropped his notepad and rubbed his forehead in frustration. "Tristan we can play cat and mouse for as long as you want but this guessing game won't help anybody but my wallet. Just say it already."

Tristan felt the blush expand as his ears began to boil, all while the tapping his right foot produced grew increasingly rapid. "It wasn't a 'her'… it's a 'him'."

* * *

"You know, we aren't used to having stars of your caliber on the Cortez." Iris said giddily.

"Obviously." The starlet replied while taking a look at her surroundings before taking off her black rimmed sun glasses. "But my manager said this place was the closest to the filming location with the added perk of not staying on the same building as my co-stars. Those bitches are unbearable."

"And that's why we booked one of our deluxe suits just for you Ms. Montgomery." The hotel's manager said while handing her the room's keys. "I know I speak in behalf of all of the Cortez's staff when I say I hope you have a great stay at our humble abode."

"Emphasis on humble." Madison snapped as she picked the keys.

"Uh…" Iris babbled while Madison looked at her with a mix of suspicion and disgust. "Ms. Montgomery, this is embarrassing but I'm such a big fan… your performance on Adulthood was award worthy and Fright Dames was such an unappreciated show, it shouldn't have been canceled after it's first season." The young witch smiled smugly. "Would you mind signing…" Iris asked as she quickly searched her desk for any memorabilia, settling on the hotel's guest book. "… this?"

"Sure." She sighed, grabbing the pen from the older woman's trembling hands. "Anything for the fans, I guess."

* * *

 **Author's Note** : First off, I ship weird shit, sorry. It's been a WHILE since I've written anything at all but I had this on hold almost since probably episode three of this season so yeah, I loved Liz and Tristan but I can't write Liz to save my life, she was perfect. This story's basically a huge AU/jumbled mess of all seasons. Basically the events from Murder House haven't happened, the ones on Coven have, I'm trying to adapt Freak Show to modern times and Hotel is obviously the main one (not touching Asylum because that one's perfect). Regardless, I hope everyone likes this. I plan on making this a short, multi-chapter story but if it flops I'll edit it a bit for it to be a somewhat decent one-shot. Also an actual little fact from the story: considering Hotel tried its hardest to make us believe Iris was a lovable loser I went all the way and made her a Madison Montgomery fangirl because she kinda seems like the type, at least to me (also this was written around the time everyone thought Scream Queens was gonna get axed, which it thankfully didn't).

Peace!


	2. Living Dead

Once upon a time, death was something that used to scare Madison. The idea of fading away without leaving a trace, a legacy, was an idea so foreign yet so plausible. Although she'd manage to gain legions of fans on Twitter and Instagram, not to mention the occasional stalkers, her time a Robichaux's Academy made her fear of death even more latent. While Cordelia began marketing it as a safe heaven for misfits and outcasts Madison knew that, at least while on her stay there, the place was a house of death.

Death roamed every single corner of that school. That bitch Zoe with her life sucking vag, a zombie frat douche made up entirely of dead rapists and the decrepit, now-dead, crone Fiona herself were just a few of the living embodiments of death that roamed Delia's 'safe heaven'. _Bullshit_ , she said to herself while mentally lighting up her cigarette.

She looked at her reflection on the suite's huge vanity mirror. Her skin was corpse pale, her skin never truly went back to the rosy color it used to have before her first death. Misty said it was a possible side effect from being brought back from the brink after such a prolonged period of time. At least she didn't look like an amateur's attempt at sewing like they've done with Zoe's undead plaything. She took one final look at her reflection, this time focusing on the black lace choker covering her neck which she then took off.

Upon uncovering her neck she took a look at what laid underneath. The scar from the knife wound was still very much visible, luckily make-up was more than enough to cover it up while on set. The wounds from her second death were harder to explain. Zoe's pet, Kyle, had strangled her with such force that the markings from his fingernails carved through Madison's flesh leaving more than a couple deep scratches all through the actress's neck. She ran a soft hand through her neck area.

According to what she was told by Cordelia, Queenie was the one that found Madison's corpse and all three of the remaining witches agreed to give the movie star one last chance at life which resulted in her second resuscitation. Cordelia assured Madison that Zoe would chastise Kyle for his actions. Last time she checked, an attempt at a witch's life resulted in a stake burning but being the wuss that she'd always been, it was pretty clear why Cordelia settled for a scolding. _Weak bitch_ , Madison thought to herself.

Still, being brought back to life was almost as bad a death itself. Between the initial numbness and mentally unstable episodes, there was also a whole healing process to endure through. Just like people who survived car crashes had to get physical therapy in order to heal any damaged muscles, Madison had her own issues to overcome in the form of vocal chord therapy and healing. It was around this time that she lamented giving Kyle the biggest arms they could find on the morgue.

Being strangled by a mortal, or undead if you wanted to get technical, was possibly one of the least dignifying ways to go out for a witch. In her defense though, one of of the first lessons Cordelia taught them back when she was just a regular, meek teacher was that witches couldn't manifest their abilities if they didn't concentrate a hundred percent on them. Needless to say, having a reanimated frat boy choking the life out of you was by now means the best scenario to focus on igniting him or flinging him across the room.

Although the vitalum vitalis was enough to give her sufficient life force to get back to the realm of the living, the sheer force the reanimated frat boy had used to strangle the life out of her severely damaged her vocal chords. It took her months to manage uttering full sentences again, most doctors said it was a miracle she managed to heal as much as she did considering the damaged inflicted on them.

By the time she managed to regain her full speaking abilities it was already too late to do good on her promise to dish the dirt on Cordelia and her low-rent Hogwarts. Apparently the new Supreme had taken it to herself to make them public to the whole world. Now witches were something people were supposed to just accept. At the very least Madison knew she was better off on her own now. It was just be a matter of time before some religious freak or another kind of witch hunting organisation would try pulling of a hate crime on their asses.

Besides, the fact that Hollywood welcomed her back with open arms was all that mattered to her. She didn't need magic or a stupid title to prove she was worth more than any of those messes back in New Orleans. The cherry on top of the cake was having world renowned fashion designer Will Drake interested in making her the new face for his fall fashion line. Although she did actually picked the Cortez in an attempt to distance herself from her annoying costars, the whole Will Drake endorsement was the real reason she agreed on staying on a place with such awful Yelp reviews. And in case things went south and Drake decided to pull the plug on the deal, at the very least she'd make use of one of the few useful things she learned back at Robichaux's, concilium.

She quickly wrapped the lace choker back, covering most of the scars. She took one last look at herself. Despite her acquired flaws she still looked better than most would ever hope for. Most of her wounds were easy to hide; that basically summed up Madison pretty well, she was damaged yet it was hard to tell. Regardless, she didn't care. She'd been at death's door more than once and every time she just came back stronger, death was no longer something to fear rather than something to expect.

* * *

The Countess was truly a sight to behold. Being a model, Tristan had surrounded himself with women who many deemed the most gorgeous faces of their time but the Countess was a whole other deal on her own. Her beauty didn't come entirely from her looks, she was draped in mystery and the enigma that she represented was more exhilarating than any Victoria Secret angel could ever hope to be. That's why making her come was the more satisfying to him.

"God-" She moaned as she rode Tristan's stiff dick. "…harder!"

The model thrust his pelvis sinuously towards his lover's body. "Y'like that?" He asked deviously between breaths while laying under the Cortez's matron. She nodded weakly as she tried her best to not let out a scream. Seeing such a majestic presence in need of his body made Tristan feel a certain type of power he didn't want to let go. Regardless of the lack of spark when compared to the want he felt with the lobster boy, there was no denying that the Countess made sex an electrifying experience.

Her firm hands slowly scratched their way down the model's rock hard pecs. While tamed in comparison to other of the kinky shit she liked to pull with him, the slight scratching from the Countess's perfectly filed nails made Tristan feel an instant rush go down his spine. He thrusted himself towards her a couple more times, hard.

The Countess humped her perfect body, almost on a choreographed manner, directly on Tristan's bulging cock. Although their bodies were dead, at least by official medical standards, the blood they fed themselves with on the daily was what helped them get it on. The one downside was that such exhilaration drained most of the plasma out of the model's body. The Countess could feel Tristan's pace slowing down.

"What the matter?" She teased. "Need to reload? Maybe a bit of stimulation?" She added between huffs. She she slowly separated herself from the model. "I'm not used to getting on my knees but for you I'd make an exception."

"I'd like that, yes." Tristan replied, catching his breath while doing so.

The blonde beauty slowly made her way down the model's tights, slowly running the tip of her index finger down the model's chiseled abs. Tristan felt the sudden rush once again, strategic touches were one of his many weaknesses while on the boudoir. The Countess continued sliding down the model's body until her lower body was no longer on the penthouse's bed but kneeling on the floor next to it.

She then proceeded to pull the model's strong legs with seamless strength towards her. "Get a little closer, darling." Although he hadn't felt the need to experience it at it's full potential, the Countess was unusually strong, he remembered her mentioning how their blood affliction enhanced their senses.

Without much prelude, she began sucking on Tristan's erect cock. Although he felt his energy levels lowering, the Countess had a way with her tongue that managed to keep him hard enough. He had to hand it to her, all those decades hadn't gone in vain, the woman knew her way around a dick like no other. "Jesus… you're good… so… good." It just took a couple more tries to make the model come in the Countess's mouth.

While not the usual fluids she fed with, the Countess still found pride in getting something out of her prey and Tristan could tell. It was moments like these that made him wonder why he even doubted his bond with her. There was no other way of describing a creature like her other than majestic. He could just overlook the lack of real passion and blind himself with the rush of lust she brought out of him.

* * *

"I really don't know why you insisted on keeping me from slitting that hooker's throat." Elizabeth question while serving herself a glass of blood from her reserve flask. "We'd have a whole lot more of this."

"He had potential." Tristan insisted while sipping the last droplets of plasma off his own glass. "Besides, that thing he did with his fingers was out of this world and you know it."

"True." She admitted while drinking. "Still, I don't like sharing."

"Relax, we'll probably just ask him to join us one more time before we need to find a new one." Tristan lied.

"Speaking of new ones…" She began, taking one last sip out of the glass before placing it on the silver platter where she left the flask. "Remember my little arrangement with your boss?" Tristan nodded, less enthusiastic now that the topic of Will Drake was on the table. He hated that guy with a burning passion. "Well, he's been talking nonstop about his fall collection, which by the way is brilliant. Almost makes me think twice about offing him."

"Don't falter, no clothing line's worth having that asshat around." Tristan insisted.

The Countess just laughed it off. "Anyways, he wanted a big name representing the brand and he settled for one of those up-and-coming Hollywood starlets. He apparently wants to go with a more… youthful approach."

"Typical Will Drake, preying off the young to keep himself relevant." Tristan scoffed. "I sure hope the poor bitch knows the hell she sold her soul for. Her life will turn into a living nightmare for the next three to four months."

"Regardless, she'll be staying in the Cortez for a couple days so just take this as a 'don't feed on her' notice. I need Will to feel as in-control as he possibly can before the wedding." She explained. "The sooner we get this over with the better."

"So who's the wench?" Tristan asked dryly. "I've met a couple of the new blood Hollywood had to offer on past gigs. If she's good enough for Drake to suck off I'm guessing I've at least heard of her somewhere."

"Madison Montgomery." Elizabeth answered. "I've heard our lady at the lobby gushing over her work before so I'm guessing she's not that good. Haven't seen any of her work before, though. Although I remember a report on her a couple years about how she got into a mess regarding one of those cults in New Orleans."

"Montgomery? Seriously?" Tristan asked in disbelief. "God, she's awful. Her acting makes Kristen Stewart look like she has range. I've heard the bitch's kind of a psycho too, plus all those rumors going around about her being a witch and stuff. Seriously, she's a tabloid's daydream."

"Witch you say?" The Countess asked, Tristan could sense a hint of surprise in her tone.

"Yeah, but those are just some rumors I heard go around. I'm calling bullshit, if she really had powers I'd imagine she'd at least use them to get some talent." He added. "Besides, you don't seriously think witches and magic and all that stuff is real, right?"

The Countess just raised an eyebrow. That single moment said more than a thousand words could. "Bitch please, don't forget who you're talking to."

She had a point, still the whole explanation regarding their… affliction made more sense than simply 'magic'. And even if they were true it was more of a reason to stay away from Madison Montgomery's path, if word on the street was anything to go by that girl was a mess. Tristan knew that he really had no place judging someone for having a messy private life but if any of the stories he heard were even slightly close to the truth he really didn't want to hang around long enough to find out.

"Now, be a dear and wait for me here." The Countess added while covering herself with one of her silk robes. "I'll go pay Mr. Drake a visit. Don't wait up, though."

As she walked out of the penthouse, Tristan just kept his eyes fixed on the doors. He had to hand it ot her, the woman's sex drive was the strongest one he'd seen on anyone ever. After a few minutes, the model noticed his cellphone's screen flashing. As soon as he saw it up close he noticed the two text messages.

 _RawkLobstr: hey pretty boy ;)_

 _RawkLobstr: wanna go at it again?_

He felt like such a dork for smiling at text messages but it was dumb things like these that made him get that warm, fuzzy feeling inside him. Although they had each others phone numbers, texting through Grindr was still their preferred method of communication. Sure he might have kept the actual details from how he actually met his new boy toy but in all honesty, admitting to using a dating app was pretty embarrassing, especially for a model. He quickly texted back.

 _FineNDandy: what do u have in mind?_

 _RawkLobstr: idk just wanna get freaky w/u_

 _FineNDandy: wanna come over?_

 _RawkLobstr: kinda low on cash…_

 _FineNDandy: don't worry, i'm friends w/the owner_

* * *

 **Author's Note** : So, just as I expected, this has gotten little to no attention but on the upside I'm really having a lot of fun writing this. If there are any other sickos out there waiting for more Jimmy/Tristan interactions, I'll guarantee that next chapter will finally have them meet up, just wanted to get some world building done here. Basically this chapter explains how the Coven timeline worked out within the context of this headcanon/AU as well as to give a little insight in Madison's psyche. Also, I'm HELLA LAME so excuse my lame-ass usernames for Jimmy and Tristan but at the time I thought they were really clever. As far as where the Hotel canon lays, well: Liz, Donovan, John, Alex, Ramona (my fav), and the vampire babies will probably not show up. I'm still on the line about where Sally could fit in here but Mr. March will most definitely make an appearance. As for characters from other seasons, a few will pop or be mentioned later on but nothing's set in stone. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy this to some extent. Lastly, excuse my grammar in case I missed something but I seriously need a beta as I'm a lazy mofo.

Peace!


	3. Skin

Ever since his memory served him right, James Darling had considered himself an old soul stuck in a modern world. He credited this, in part, to his humble upbringing. Although accustomed to his surroundings and people's urge to rush through everything without taking the time to appreciate the beauty of their surroundings Jimmy, ever the outcast, preferred swimming against the flow.

People always commended him on being a gentleman, Jimmy just thought they were over exaggerating. His mother, may God have her in his glory, always taught him to treat others with kindness and respect no matter who. Ethel Darling was probably the best mother someone like Jimmy could have asked for, she gave him her everything up until the end.

Jimmy had been born with a rare condition of ectrodactyly. Both his hands and one of his feet had two pairs of fingers fused with one another, luckily for him the medical advances at the time allowed for corrective surgery. Ethel used up most of her savings to pay for the procedures allowing him to live a 'normal' life.

Debts and a life long addiction to booze stole his mother from him but, even in death, she still taught Jimmy the valuable lesson of keeping his head up despite adversities. Knowing how addiction caused his mother's downfall, Jimmy swore on his life to keep himself clean as long as he drew a breath. Ironically, he might have just found a different kind of addiction he'd spiralled himself in too deep to get out off.

"Hey you." Tristan uttered as he approached him gently.

Jimmy smiled as the model came closer. "Hey there, pretty boy."

The escort noticed the hint of a faint blush appearing on Tristan's chiseled face. "You know…" The model began as he slowly circled around the so-called lobster boy. "I just rewatched one of your old pornos…"

Now it was Jimmy's turn to blush. "Oh really? Well, I'm not really proud of those…" He began before he felt the wet touch of the model's lips on his neck. Tristan's arms wrapped around Jimmy's waist while the model continued kissing his neck. During all of his years as one of Fräulein Elsa's Cabinet of Curiosities most experienced escorts, Jimmy couldn't remember encountering anyone with Tristan's allure, mostly because he was the one doing the foreplay most of the time.

"That one of you with those twin sisters…" Tristan continued as one of his hands lowered to caress the forming bulge on Jimmy's pants. "I want you to do me like them…"

Small bits came back flashing through Jimmy's mind. Most of his porns were pretty forgettable but the one with the twins had been a memorable one. Although he never turned job offers down, Jimmy wasn't really a fan of doing straight-for-pay ones but Bette and Dot really eased him through the experience. He did remember that particular one had him use his hands a lot more than usual, a signature move of him which quickly earned him the nickname 'Lobster Boy' amongst his peers and watchers.

Jimmy turned around to lock lips with the model. Their bodies rubbing against one another, Jimmy could feel Tristan's excitement growing as the beautiful man pulled the escort's leather jacket off his body, exposing the wife beater underneath. A quick peek at his prey's bare arms was enough to set him off, he quickly pushed Jimmy to the suite's bed before launching himself over him.

Jimmy swiftly undid the model's tight faux leather pants as the former nibbled the escorts ear, a weak spot of his. Jimmy didn't waste time and went directly for Tristan's crotch, stroking the already hard cock with a mixture of savageness and tenderness. His hand in the 'lobster claw' position he'd always felt both so natural and effective. A light moan from the model's was enough for him to know he was getting the job done.

"God, Jimmy… mmmh, fuck!" Tristan uttered between breaths.

The escort took delight on the model's pleasure. "And we haven't even gotten to the best part yet, pretty boy." He then took it to himself to release Tristan fully of his pants before ripping through the buttons of the model's silk shirt exposing his perfect torso. "God you're beautiful."

Tristan had heard that a million times before. If he recalled correctly those were the exact words Will Drake told him the first time Tristan had surrendered himself to the fashion mogul but with Jimmy it felt different, he could feel the honesty on his tone. Truth be told, Tristan never considered himself to be truly beautiful but whenever Jimmy said stuff like that he couldn't help but believe him.

* * *

"Madison, darling!" Will Drake exclaimed before air kissing the movie star on both cheeks. "It's so good to see you again."

"Likewise, Mr. Drake." Madison reciprocated, taking a seat on the room's huge sofa.

"Oh please, call me Will, Mr. Drake was my father." The fashion mogul replied. "I hope your stay at the Cortez has been nothing less than pleasant."

"It's been alright, although you can tell your receptionist to keep her distance any time now." The actress added. "I'm all up for a couple praises every once in a while but that woman's annoying the shit out of me lately."

"I'll have some of the staff talk to her as soon as possible." He replied. "As far a business goes, I'm certain you've seen what's in store for the promotional campaign, right?"

Madison nodded. "I expected a bit more, y'know, color but you're the boss here."

"As for the payment…" Will began reluctantly. "I know I gave your agent an estimate but due to certain… situations I have no control over I think I've been forced to deduct a couple zeroes off your paycheck…"

"What?" Madison quickly responded. "Okay, I'll pretend like what you just said didn't happen and move along."

"I'm sorry Madison but the economy's fucked, you're not the only one affected by this whole thing. I've had to get rid of-"

"Look Mr. Drake, I don't give a rat's ass about how much people have lost their job, I'm not here to do any kind of charity. Do you honestly think having to stay in this shit hole of a place not enough of a sacrifice?" The movie star complained. "Either you get that paycheck back to it's original quantity or you'll have to find another person."

Will Drake's face quickly turned from worried to infuriated. "Are you seriously threatening me? Because let me tell you something young woman, in this industry no one's expandable. Do you think there aren't a thousand other skinny bitches out there willing to literally kill to get a gig like this? If anything the one doing you a favor his is me!"

Madison flinched at the fashion designer's sudden retort. She wasn't really used to people attacking back and he did have a point, while the pay was important, the amount of publicity she'd get from it was the real prize. Her career had been stalled ever since leaving Robichaux's and she was in no position to turn an offer down. Still, she wasn't one to accommodate to others either.

"I'm sorry Mr. Drake, let me be a bit more persuasive." Madison began, her mind now focused on delivering the following statement with as much coercion as possible. "You _will_ get me the money you originally promised and you _will_ do it without second guessing. Are we clear?"

The young witch quickly noticed the fluctuations on the size of the man's pupil, denoting the effects of concilium taking place on Will Drake's mind. Madison found the irony amusing, the only will now was hers ruling his. The fashion mogul slowly nodded while on a trance-like state.

"Actually scratch that, you _will_ increase my pay by another million." Madison added.

"Well that's quite the amount of money you're planning to make." A voice from behind her caught her off guard. "But I'm not sure if Mr. Drake's thinking clearly right now with all the work he's done all through the week."

Madison quickly turned around noticing the imposing figure right behind her. It took a lot to startle someone who'd literally been to hell twice now yet the pale blonde did just that. "W-who are you?"

The Countess smiled as she slowly made her way towards the witch. "I'm Mr. Drake's business partner." She uttered with that mysterious tone of hers. Madison had never been one to sense things, hell that's the whole reason she wasn't able to become the next Supreme, yet the vibes this woman was giving her were quite unsettling. "I'm also his fiancée."

"Oh…" She replied surprised. "I always figured Will was… you know… gay."

The lack of concentration from Madison's part made itself evident when the fashion designer regained his senses. "Honey, wha-"

"I'm just greeting our visitor, dear. I wasn't aware you two were already discussing business so I figured I'd join you both." The Countess replied. "I'm sure Miss Montgomery wouldn't mind."

"Not at all." Madison lied.

* * *

Tristan took a puff out of the lit up cigarette. "I hate myself…"

"You weren't that bad." Jimmy replied while laying next to the model.

"No." He said while lighting the thing out. "I really shouldn't be doing this."

"I agree." The escort added. "Smoking's an awful habit."

The model managed to crack a weak smile. All the self loathing aside, Tristan was glad Jimmy tried his best to lighten the mood. He nudged the lobster boy lightly with his shoulder. "Not that you ass, I mean this whole gay thing."

"Why?" Jimmy asked. Tristan was as flawed as he was gorgeous, and he was really gorgeous. He'd met many closeted gay guys who were in denial before but the model was by far the one Jimmy felt for the most.

"It's not… _I'm_ not…" Tristan replied.

"Hey." Jimmy began as he placed his naked torso over Tristan's. "You need to learn to love yourself. I mean it when I say that whatever you are is better than all of this fear and loathing."

"You're just saying that because you have to…" The model replied.

"Listen up doll, I just have to say stuff like that to clients." Jimmy said, a devious smile forming on the sides of his lips. "You and are are way past that point now."

"I'm seeing a shrink you know…" Tristan continued, Jimmy just huffed before rolling to his side of the bed once again.

"Boy, you sure know how to keep the sexy mood going…" The lobster boy replied sarcastically. "What did they say?"

"That I shouldn't repress this stuff because it will then backfire and turn into frustration or some shit like that." The model replied. "Basically, bullshit."

"Sounds like good advise to me." The lobster boy said. "What's so bad about liking other dudes anyways?"

"That's the problem, I don't like dudes." Tristan replied. Will Drake was the living proof of that, the only reason he still let that sleaze near him was merely for job related reasons, yet with Jimmy things were different. Things were real. "At least not all dudes…"

Jimmy smiled at the hint of self doubt on the model's voice. "Do you like me?"

There was that blush again. Although Tristan's confident exterior was a total turn-on, Jimmy always cherished the few moments of vulnerability the model showed him every once in a while. "I guess… I kinda do."

The lobster boy smiled back. "Then that's all that matters." He replied before pecking a kiss onto Tristan's soft lips.

"What about you?" The model asked. "Do you like me?"

"You know, back at the Cabinet we have this rule were we're not allowed to tell clients stuff like that." Jimmy teased. "Luckily you're not a client. So yeah, I do."

Tristan grinned. "Smartass…"

"You up for another go?" He asked as the model eyed his prize.

"Fine." He said while positioning himself. "But this time you're mine."

* * *

 **Author's note** : I really had a hard time writing (and re-writing) this chapter and I feel like the end result was a mess but whatever. Thanks to everyone reading this weird-ass story, I've noticed it's slowly but surely getting more attention so expect more from these two dorks in the future. We'll certainly see more of the Countess and Will Drake as well as the Madison storyline, which next chapter will introduce another big player into the fold. Lastly, I wanna give a shout out to The Cry-Wank Kid who's Jimmy/Dandy story was the sole reason I began shipping these two hot messes and I recommend you to go read ASAP in case you haven't because it's beautiful, you the real MVP.

 **P.S.** Excuse any grammar errors as I've been trying to beta this thing but there's so much I can do on my own.

Peace!


	4. Served

"Fancy seeing _you_ here so early." He said almost mockingly. "I recall you preferred the much less graceful yet popular 'fashionably late', dear."

"Stop yammering Jimmy." The Countess replied dryly as she took a seat at the opposite end of the table. "I'm not in the mood."

James March tried his best not to showcase the delight he felt. "Not in the mood you say? Funny, that phrasing you did there. From the few glimpses I've had neither has that cream puff's dong, so there, at least now you know the two of you have something in common before you decide to wed each other."

The Countess only reply was the stone cold glare she shot his way. Although they agreed on a dinner per month, most of the time consisted on tearing each other apart rather than on the eating itself.

"Oh come on Elizabeth, lighten up." Mr. March insisted. "I just find the idea of you marrying a man who finds little to no sexual desire towards you a fascinating thought." The former owner of the Cortez added. "For a while I'd hypothesized it was sex, rather than blood, that fueled you."

"Well, now I see how you've been keeping your dead ass busy all these years." The Countess sassed while gently sawing off a slice of the filet mignon on the plate in front of her. "Although I do feel the need to inform you that while Mr. Drake might take a while to stimulate, that toy rocket of his works like a charm."

The Countess felt a strong relief at seeing her former husband's jaw clench at the retort. She knew James's manhood was his weak spot, on all sense of the word. Back when the man was alive, it was almost impossible to get his to stay stiff without a murder up front. At first, Elizabeth found such behavior alluring yet after a couple months the thrill of the hunt quickly grew old and ended up representing more of a shore rather than actual pleasure.

"Still I wouldn't worry about it much, Jimmy." The Countess continued, the snark on her tone just fueling the dangerous man's rage even further. "I've hear science has come a long way ever since you died. There's these little blue pills that are sure to get the job done for you, or at least that's what I've heard that's working with the elderly."

He unwillingly slammed the fork he held with his left hand harder than he intended. The obvious sign of anger just filled the woman on the other side of the table with further delight, the thought of it sickened the former businessman. The anger was enough to help him regain a slight bit of self-control.

"I've always loved that sharp wit and an even sharper tongue of yours, Elizabeth dear." He began. "How'd you like me to slice them off?"

"Bitch, please." She answered before taking a bite of her dinner, the dark dead eyes of her staring at her ex-husband's equally somber ones. "The moment I feel even the slightest bit of boredom out of this little charade of ours I'll just have you banish till next month."

The rules that bounded James and those of his kind to the mortal plane were a flimsy, bizarre set. Ghosts could appear to the living, or living dead in the case of Elizabeth and those like here, at will and even interact with physical objects and sometimes even the actual mortal yet the moment the words 'go away' were uttered all hell broke loose. Although the hatred between them was strong, Elizabeth had just banished James once in all their years living under the same roof.

"Fair enough, I'll make it my duty to keep things interesting for you dearest." James declared. "Care for a glass of wine?"

"You know me too well." The Countess replied; upon hearing the request, Mr. March called for Ms. Evers to serve his ex-wife's glass with the finest bottle on his liquor cabinet. The former maid appeared from the shadows with a bottle of Chardonnay.

"I really don't get it." Elizabeth began. "As appalling as you are, this wench has been by your side for all these years. I don't really know what you give her in return but I doubt it's worth it."

"With your pardon, Mrs. March, I don't ask for anything in return." The hotel maid replied, a hint of honest pride in her tone. "Mr. March's company's more than enough of a reward."

Mr. March pulled out a stupefied smiled at the compliment while the Countess herself just shook her head slowly. "You poor, deluded fool of a woman. I'll be praying for you to see the truth some day."

Ms. Evers was one of the few people James Patrick March had ever felt any sense of empathy towards. His most loyal servant trough the years, as well as his sometimes confidant, had earned her position as March's right hand woman as well as his respect. A respect which was certainly lacking ever since Elizabeth came into his life. "That's quite enough, dear. Ms. Evers, you're dismissed for the night, thank you for your services. The filet mignon was especially exquisite tonight."

The older woman beamed with delight at the eulogy to her cooking skills. "A pleasure as always Mr. March." She then turned on her heel towards the shadows where she appeared from before banishing once more.

"That woman's unbearable." The Countess snapped while taking a sip out of her glass. "You two are made for each other."

"Wish I could say the same for you and your new boy toy." Mr. March added. "You really should refine your taste, darling. It appears you're bringing one pillow muncher after another to this place. Last time I checked you were all woman down there and I doubt these gentlemen appreciate wasting their time on a pure fanny diet. Besides, I wasn't aware you were into the 'pretty boy' type... but then again you _did_ fall for me once."

" _You_ a pretty boy? I'm glad your sense of humor remains intact after all these years, James." Elizabeth replied in amusement. "As for Tristan, not that it's any of your business but he just fucks Will for show. He's been kind enough to help me stimulate the man form time to time."

James chuckled at the woman's obliviousness. "Oh darling, I don't think you're getting what I'm trying to say here. That pretty, young thing of yours has been getting it up his arse from another fellow on our very own Hotel Cortez, sometimes even at the same time as you try your best to get that poof's dick to harden."

Elizabeth wasn't one to showcase any form of weakness, at least not anymore, but hearing James's delighted tone just made the whole scenario a frightening possibility. Could Tristan really done as the ghost said? She imagined he surely knew better than defying her trust, still another part of her just thought it was James deceitful nature toying with her insecurities. After the whole fiasco with Ruddy Valentino, Elizabeth had come to know her ex-husband was capable of any type of deception as long as it meant keeping her from achieving true happiness.

"You're full of shit, James." The Countess stated before drinking once more. "I'm supposed to believe that out of all people residing in this place, hell, out of all the goddamn rooms in this shit hole _you_ decided to go creep on two men having sex? Please."

"Dear, I've seen tons of grotesque imagery through my years residing inside the Cortez. Two fellows having a go at it wouldn't come near the most appalling sight my eyes have laid eyes upon." Mr. March admitted.

Elizabeth remained skeptical. Although not as extreme as other known homophobes in modern era, the James Patrick March she had come to know would have never set eyes on two men sharing a kiss, even less so on them fucking. "So I'm supposed to buy the fact that you've had repressed this gay fetish of yours for at least... uh, seventy years now?"

"I suppose an explanation is at hand." Mr. March replied. "I remain firm on my adoration of the female physique but this little… escapades I've had while watching your new catch doing the nasty with another man isn't for pleasure reasons, not in the least." Elizabeth nodded in disbelief. "You see, the first time I saw them heading towards a room by themselves I was merely curious as to what the boy was doing while in the company of another who wasn't you, darling. I imagined he'd slice the unsuspecting man's throat off too feed off him, yet it turned out he ended up feeding off him on a whole different way."

"But you kept watching, didn't you?" The Countess asked coldly.

"Just a couple of times." James admitted. "The fellow he's getting intimate with is quite the handsome one, if I do say so myself. I suppose the contrast between the successful way they managed to work off one another is quite humorous when compared to the poor attempts between you and Mr. Drake."

Elizabeth began pressing her thumb against the silverware on her hand, slightly bending it on the process by the unwilling use of her enhanced strength. The thought of Tristan, _her_ Tristan, getting pleasure off someone else while she struggled to get Will Drake even slightly erect made the cold blood on her system boil with anger.

"In a way I suppose I see it as a sort of power fantasy of mine." March continued. "While you believe you're pulling the strings on everything, I'm still secretly winning."

The Countess raised an eyebrow in confusion over the statement. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Mr. Marched grinned at the woman's confusion. "I kind of see a lot of myself in the other fellow for some strange reason, between his good looks and suave way with words I suppose the comparisons lend themselves too easily. The fact that we share the same name just adds fuel to the fire."

"Same name? What do you mea-" It suddenly struck her. Her eyes remained wide open in realization as she covered her opened mouth with her left hand. The shock of the whole situation being real was too much for her to handle yet it all made perfect sense now. No wonder Tristan was so reluctant of disposing of that one time hook-up.

James couldn't help but holler at the Countess's state of sheer surprise. "Oh darling, if only you could see yourself right now!" He added mockingly. "I hadn't seen such honest emotion come out of you in _years_!"

The Countess remained flabbergasted. She still couldn't believe Tristan's betrayal. She began feeling her eyes growing damp. Mr. March continued laughing it off, it took all the strength in her not to let a single tear of rage slip. She wouldn't show weakness, especially not while _he_ watched.

"This was a dinner for the ages, dear." James added. "I'll have to admit that while I'd love to keep you company while on your sorrow I just couldn't give any less of a damn about it. Still, I do hope to see you next month. Cheers!"

In the blink of an eye, James Patrick March was gone with no trace to be found. It was the first time ever since the monthly dinners became a thing that James left the room before Elizabeth. The Countess remained seated, her eyes still as wide as saucers. With James out of the room, she could at least feel the comfort of letting her raw emotions out.

A single droplet of blood came out of her damp eyes and rolled all the way down the woman's cheek.

* * *

 **Author's note** : Mr. March is a perv ghost who peeks on people having sex, that's my (head)canon now. Okay so no Tristan, Jimmy or Madison on this chapter, sorry about that but I feel like the whole Countess/Mr. March dynamic needed to be explored a bit more, plus this chapter was SUPER fun to write. The conversation between them basically wrote itself and I do hope it managed to sound natural and in-character as these two have this very specific tone that I hope I managed to pin down well enough. I also brought back the whole 'go away' thing they stated in Murder House as I feel like it could have been used at some points during Hotel but apparently the writers forgot about it. I also added a little nod to the obvious Jimmy/Mr. March resemblance. Lastly, thanks a ton to everyone following, faving, reading and especially reviewing this ode to weird AHS slash crackships, it really motivates me to continue.

 **P.S.** Just like I said on the last chapter, grammar/spelling may be a bit flimsy at parts in case I missed something so please excuse that. As far as other character appearances, I wanna include a few more Murder House characters at some point. As for Hotel characters like Sally, Lachlan and possibly Donovan (even though I said earlier that he wasn't gonna be in it) will make an appearance sooner rather than later.

Peace!


End file.
